


forever a girl in blue

by ArgylePirateWD



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Refuses to Leave Other (Hurt or Vulnerable) Character's Side, Shippy Gen, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-09 20:37:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19893985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgylePirateWD/pseuds/ArgylePirateWD
Summary: A good cop didn't leave their mortally-wounded partner behind without a damn good reason.Him being immortal was not a damn good reason.





	forever a girl in blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Karios](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karios/gifts).



There were some things that you just did not do when you were a cop. One of those things was leaving your mortally-wounded partner behind without a damn good reason.

"Go on, Jo," Henry begged, voice barely over a whisper. "You don't want to see this."

Him being immortal was not a damn good reason.

"I called Abe." She sank down beside Henry on the sidewalk, not giving a crap about the pool of blood spreading from his gut and his chest getting on her pants. He was dying. He needed her.

Carefully, she pulled him into her arms. He didn't groan, far past the point of pain, but sagged against her with a soft exhale. For a second, she thought that was it, that he'd vanish from her grasp right then.

But he inhaled again, a weak and ugly rasp, and her heart clenched. She ran her fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. It was odd, in a way, how sweaty he was when he was already so cold. "He said he'll meet you by the river."

Henry gave a feeble nod, then said, "Jo, please. Go."

If she thought he wanted privacy in dying, she would have left. But the way he pressed up against her, as close as he could get, said more than words. "No way in hell, Henry." Her voice shook, and she found herself blinking back tears, not sure when they'd started falling. No. No, dammit. She wasn't going to cry, just like he wasn't going to die for good. "I'm not going anywhere until you're gone. Good cops don't leave their partners."

"Very well. It won't be much longer now," he said, broken by pauses for wavering breaths and for gathering waning strength. His lips were turning blue, and he was so, so pale.

Then, to her surprise, he let out a weak laugh. "Isn't it funny?"

"What?" She kept her tone even, kind. "What's funny, Henry?"

"How hard the body fights to stay alive," he replied, "even when it's _pointless_." Had he had the strength, she thought he would've spat the word. "Even when I'll come back again and again and again..."

He trailed off and went quiet for a long time, then spoke again. "I'm quite tired, Detective."

A stray tear trickled down Jo's cheek. It went against every instinct she had to say, "Then close your eyes." She was supposed to be telling him to stay awake, to keep talking, to stay with her until the ambulance arrived. But no ambulance was coming. Just death, gradual and inevitable and hopefully temporary. "Let go, Henry. Go to sleep. I'll be okay. I'll see you at the shop."

Smiling, he reached up and stroked her cheek, leaving behind a wet streak of blood. "You are so lovely. Have I ever told you that?"

"You said I was 'quite hot' once," she said, unable to help a small smile of her own. God, it was morbid. "Something about the symmetry of my face or something."

"No, I don't mean aesthetically pleasing, my darling Jo," he said, voice growing steadily weaker, "though, unquestionably, you are _breathtaking_. I meant..." His breath hitched. "I don't have time to finish that thought, I'm afraid."

He wasn't kidding. Within seconds, he let out one last breath—an unmistakable, awful, indescribable breath. And then he was gone, her arms painfully empty, the only thing left behind his pocket watch, glinting gold on the black asphalt.

Something inside her broke. She sobbed openly, bracing herself on the suddenly-dry pavement as tears poured. Her clothes were clean. Her skin was clean. The blood on her face was gone. It was like Henry had never been there, like it was all just some terrible dream, like the universe had made a mistake. Like Henry had never existed at all.

She wept, loudly, for a long time.

Her phone buzzed: a text from Abe, saying Henry was okay. She breathed a shuddering sigh of relief.

Now it was time to stop weeping.

"Get it together, Martinez," she told herself, swiping at the ongoing torrent of tears. Henry was waiting.

A good cop did not leave their partner behind. She wasn't about to start now.


End file.
